


I'm a Little Unsteady

by Fox (Spacefoxen)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Self-Doubt, but she's a badass, captains quarters, getting back up, it's hard being shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacefoxen/pseuds/Fox
Summary: Being Commander Shepard is hard, but she's the only one who can do it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a writing contest over at https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2017/04/mass-effect-andromeda-giveaway/ (sorry idk the html coding to make that a decent link!). It had to be 500 words or less. Mine was 558, but with the help of a friend we got it down to 500 exactly!
> 
> I have a hard time believing this didn't happen at least once during Shep's many missions. No one is that strong.

Her quarters glowed in the soft blue light of the aquarium. The desk was bathed in an orange glow--the private terminal was open. The only sounds in the modest space were the aquarium’s filtration system, the softly reassuring hum of the Normandy’s engines, the occasional  _ ping _ from the terminal--

 

\--and the harsh breathing of the room’s occupant.

 

Commander Shepard was curled on the floor by her desk, her knees pressed tightly against her body. Every time her private terminal gave its soft  _ ping _ \--indicating another message, another cry for help, another call for the Hero of the Citadel--her body twitched involuntarily.  

 

Shepard was so  _ tired. _ Tired of flitting around the galaxy, of saving everyone, of running errands and killing, making the difficult decisions no one else seemed to be able to make. She was tired of having to appear more confident than she actually was, of watching people die and being unable to mourn their passing. Of always having to stand strong and tall, like she knew what she was doing.

 

Because she  _ didn’t _ know what she was doing. She had no idea. Yet, everyone still turned to her for direction. She physically ached with the burden of so much trust and dependency. 

 

She shook with a suppressed sob and wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them in further, her forehead pressed roughly against her knees. A soft groan escaped her as tears cut tracks down her face. The groan rose in pitch until it tore from her in a harsh scream. She let it loose, let it tear from her until her throat grew raw from the emotion of it. 

 

She threw her head back and screamed for her lost crew members, for Kaidan and Wrex. She screamed for everyone she had killed, whether by accident or by need. 

 

She screamed for herself; she hadn’t had any time to process being brought back from the dead. She didn’t know what that made her, what Cerberus had done to her. Was she merely their puppet? How much of herself was truly  _ her _ and not something that Cerberus wanted her to be? Were her choices her own?

 

As the scream died down, the tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she pounded the floor with her fists. She took a deep shuddering breath as her internal pain dulled from a sharp stab to a dull ache. She sat on her floor for a minute, breathing deep, before she set her jaw and opened her eyes.

 

Whatever she was, whatever she did, she did  _ not _ let people down. Especially when those people were counting on her. She didn’t have time to mourn or contemplate the weight that had been set upon her shoulders.

 

Shepard stood up from the floor, roughly wiping away the tears. She straightened her uniform, ran her fingers through her hair and set her shoulders. She sighed and opened the door, making her way down to the CIC.

 

She was Commander Shepard and she had a job to do.

**Author's Note:**

> heavily inspired by this piece of artwork: https://dungeonsdonuts.tumblr.com/post/28325115539/being-commander-shepard-is-hard


End file.
